Heart Like Ice
by WaxRoseMuseum
Summary: Jack was just a simple man. Until, the curse was lifted. Now, he has to relive his past before his past kills him. Jack has to find clues and and solve puzzles before his end. Set in time right after the curse was lifted.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The soft sound of hoof beats broke the chilling silence of the forest. The sudden noise awakened a few scarce birds that had been left behind that winter. Not even the wind dared to stir or move through the barren trees. The hoof beats grew steadily louder, but abruptly stopped.

A loud, gruff voice shot through the field, "Here's a coat to keep ya warm. Don't go 'and follow me or we'll both get hurt."

"Please, Papa, don't leave me. I want to go home. I want to see Mama," a broken, almost shattered, voice crept out.

"Your mother's not coming and ya're never gonna see her again. Neither one of us is happy, but that's what it is." The gruff voice was struggling to stay strong.

"But-but I'll be good. I won't be any trouble. Please, Papa." The tiny voice was begging.

The gruff voice spoke again, this time much more stern. "Jack, ya know what the landlord's rule is. He already doesn't like children. The only reason he has let ya stay for as long as ya have is because we have begged him. But," at this point the voice grew slightly louder, "instead of being respectful with him, ya went and stole his crops!"

"B-but-but Papa, I was just getting some food for us." The little voice squeaked. "I promise to be a good boy. I promise, I promise." Soft sobs chilled the air.

"Jack," The gruff voice whispered, cracking and breaking, as it continued, "Jack, I l-love ya. I truly love ya, boy."

"Please, Papa! Don't leave me! DON'T! NO!" But, that was it. The hoof beats faded into silence as the wind let forth one strong, cold burst, as if it were trying to convince the father to take mercy on the poor boy, as if it were also screaming. But, the wind stopped and the only sound remaining was the sound of a breaking heart and quiet sobs.

* * *

_Whap!_ That's sort of how it felt to get all of his memory back. A short, fast, hard punch to the gut. At first it made him a little bit uncomfortable like sitting on a rough wooden bench. He didn't like remembering everything. He didn't like the pain.

He had forgotten how long he had been wondering around for, but he felt tired. He felt the world going dark, like black velvet. There were screams and the sounds of swords being drawn. It was loud and frightening. He fell, but never landed on anything. He just fell, fast. All of the air was being sucked out of him. Just as he was about to faint, a blinding light shot out of nowhere and hit him like a flood of oxygen. He could breathe!

"Careful, Jack. I think you need to get some sleep." Ruby's caring voice snatched Jack back to reality. Apparently, he had fallen asleep while standing.

"No, I'll be fine. Besides, I have work to do."

Ruby looked at him doubtfully. Jack's "work" ranged from helping out at the docks to building houses. It seemed to her that the only time Jack was truly happy was when it snowed and the water froze. The cold just never seemed to bother him.

"I'll be okay, Ruby. Truly. You're such a sweet girl, always looking out for this old man."

"You don't look a day over thirty," Ruby smiled. Actually, Jack was about seventy-two, but he was in pretty good shape for his age.

Jack laughed. "Don't tease me, little girl. You always were a terrible little liar. I'll see you later." Jack kissed Ruby on the head and hugged her good-bye. He could see Ms. Lucas in the back of the dinner and he tried to wave good-bye to her, but she never looked up.

"I'll tell Granny you said good-bye. Now, go home, Jack, before you fall over." Ruby was looking caringly over Jack as if to make sure he was sane. "Do you need a ride?"

Jack gave one final look in Granny's direction before answering Ruby. "No, no, I'll be fine. Good night."

Ruby didn't want Jack to walk home alone. He lived somewhat away from the main town, a little bit into the forest. His old cabin was falling apart, but he refused to leave it. Ruby was always making trips up there to give him food or just to check on him.

Jack lugged himself outside. If it were up to him, he would have stayed with Ruby in the dinner. He loved that little girl and whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had a crush on her grandmother, too. Jack smiled at himself. So childish. But he knew he couldn't stay. He had to find the book. Now, where had he left it, again?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As Jack approached his cabin, he noticed a small piece of paper attached to his door. The air rustled a few leaves and sent an obvious chill throughout the woods. Jack didn't mind. He always considered cold weather to be his most trusted ally. Ironically, Jack always felt warmer when it was cold. He glanced around suspiciously. The day was fading fast into night and a small amount of stars could be seen in the sky. After he had appropriately surveyed his surrounds, he tore the paper from his door and read the note.

_Dear man of ice,_

_I offer some advice:_

_Tread carefully here,_

_Shield that which you hold dear._

_Or they will suffer greatly_

_As you watch closely._

_Your hands will be bloody_

_And I will go freely._

_So, now old man Frost,_

_You know what it will cost._

_Tread carefully here,_

_For I will be near._

The writing was clean and clear, obviously written by someone with exceptional writing skills. The paper, however, was old and torn. It was a light brown color. To Jack, it sort of looked like coffee with creamer. The paper was also burnt on the edges and small spots on the paper looked burnt, as well. The first eight lines were written on the front of the paper and the last four on the back. What caught Jack's eye the most was that the word "Frost" was not only capitalized, but it was bigger and bolder than the rest of the words.

At that moment, he spotted a figure out of the corner on his eye standing in the woods. He turned slightly to see it better, but all he could make out was that the figure was definitely a human. "Hey, you!" Jack started after the figure, but stopped short. The figure vanished. Jack had never taken his eyes off of the figure, but he didn't see it running off. It just disappeared and Jack was left standing halfway down his steps gazing into the growing darkness.

* * *

Her glossy arms wrapped around the dead boy like snakes. Her wild black hair stirred softly in the wind and every now and again it would tickle her nose. She would blow upwards to remove the unruly stray hairs. She looked down at the tiny body in her arms and smiled. She could see that he was lifeless. No breath, no heartbeat. But, there was something about the way he looked when she had found him that made her want to take him back home with her.

Her shoeless feet patted the stone steps quietly as she ascended the stairway. Her long white robe collecting bits of dirt along the way. She stopped abruptly at a doorway. There was no handle and no knocker. Instead, the door could only be opened by magic. And only one person knew what magic was required to open the door. She breathed slowly, "Black and white, day and night."

The door slid open and she smiled happily. She entered the house and called "Lights!" and every candle and torch was instantly lit. She proceeded down a hallway, through another door, and down into a tunnel. The tunnel was dark and cold. The only light came from a few dimly lit torches that were many feet apart. The tunnel was cursed so that anyone who was not supposed to be down there would believe that it extended forever. However, after a short time a small room could be seen at the end of the tunnel.

She placed the boy on a table at the center of the room and covered him with a cloth. Then, she proceeded to cover the cloth and the body underneath with water until the floor was sufficiently drenched. She walked out of the room, but stopped and turned back around just outside of the doorway. She closed her eyes and muttered unrecognizable words.

The soaked cloth that covered the body gradually froze over until it looked like a mass of dense ice. It cracked a bit, but then nothing else happened. She stopped chanting and opened her eyes. The silence and wait seemed unending. No sound came from her; she merely stood there, in the doorway, like a stone statue. Faint crackles could be heard coming from the torches.

Then, without warning, the icy cloth crunched and loosened. It fell to the floor with a snap to reveal a blinding white body emanating its own bright light. The body moved vaguely in a breathing motion. The right arm lifted from the body's side and rested gently on the torso. Then, gradually, the boy's body sat up right. It sat there for a few moments then shifted sideways to look the woman directly in the eyes. His mouth opened, but no sound escaped.

The woman gently reentered the room. She moved out her hand to touch the boy, but he jerked away. Her eyes saddened. "You are all right." Her voice, if that's what you could call it, shot through the silence. Her voice sounded more like cold glass that had abruptly been filled with hot water. The boy jumped in surprise, not knowing whether it was because of what sound her voice made, or because it had been so loud.

She smiled gingerly at him. He tried to speak again, but, as before, no sound came. "It will be all right. I have saved you. It will take time for your body to fully cope with what has happened." She spoke softly and slowly almost breathing each word. She drew herself up, "My name is Winter."

The boy smiled a little. Suddenly, a sharp pang coursed through his body causing him to flail and fall from the table. Then, he saw nothing.

* * *

Jack sat on his bed still clutching the note. Who had that person been and why had they been watching him? How had they vanished like that? Questions swarmed through his mind, but it seemed that the more answers that he thought of, the more questions popped up. He ran his fingers through his hair. He felt so tired, exhausted, in fact.

He bent down to untie his shoes and the note slipped from his lap. He reached down and picked it up. It was evident that it was meant as a threat. A five year old could figure that out. But, what did those four middle lines mean. "_My_ hands will be bloody? 'Go freely'? And what he mean calling me Frost like that? How can he possibly know?" Jack had spent his life making sure that no one found out his secret.

But, it looked like someone found out. But, how? Jack's mind was spinning. He gave one last exasperated look towards the note and set it down on his table. He stood and walked to the fireplace. It was lit, but Jack put it out and pushed the logs aside. He swept away the ashes and felt for a latch. When he found it, he tapped it twice and pushed it hard. The latch released and Jack opened the lid.

Inside the tiny compartment lay a rather large book. Jack pulled it out and blew the dust off of it. He sat down on his bed again and felt the cover. It had been ages since he felt this book in his hands. The design on the leather was just as delicate and gorgeous as it had always been. On the cover was written _Spells and Secrets by Jack Frost_.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jack kept the book underneath the fireplace so that the book was kept warm. The book needed warmth so that the magic could stay alive. It was cursed that way so that Winter wouldn't be able to find it and throw it away. She always had such a problem with him preforming magic outside of her supervision.

But, right now Jack needed all of the magic he could summon. This riddle needed to be deciphered so that some of Jack's questions could be answered. He opened the book and turned to the five hundred and thirty-seventh page. There, at the top was written "Deciphering and Understanding Riddles and Codes".

Jack read each line quickly until he reached the last paragraph. It read:

_First, you must identify the magic that is in the riddle or code. In order to do this you must recite the incantation provided on page two hundred and fifteen._

Jack obeyed and quickly flipped the pages of the book. He stopped at the correct page and found the Identifying Spell. He picked up the old piece of paper which had fallen and he breathed the incantation onto it.

The paper turned into a hint of red, but nothing else happened. Jack frowned slightly, but he knew that the entire deciphering sequence wasn't over yet. He flipped back through the pages to where he had started and read on:

_If, after reciting the incantation, the riddle or code turned a faint shade of blue the magic that is encompassed in the code or riddle is good magic (that is to say that the code or riddle was written in magic with good intentions). If this is the case, please turn to page five hundred and thirty-eight._

_However, if your code or riddle turned a faint shade of red the magic that is encompassed in the code or riddle is evil magic (that is to say that the code or riddle was written in magic with evil intentions). If this is the case please turn to page five hundred and thirty-nine._

Jack flipped the page, but before he started reading, he rubbed his face in frustration. He didn't understand why someone would threaten him. He was an old man with no quarrel with anyone. He had lived a peaceful life without confrontation. So, then the question became who had a quarrel with him?

Jack shut his eyes tight almost as if he were trying to mentally make this problem disappear. He could feel his mind pleading with him to rest. Sleep was pointless, Jack had always thought. To him, it was like having hours, precious hours, stolen from you. Jack knew he had to open his eyes or he would fall asleep, but he also wanted to keep them closed and ignore the problem. However, when he opened his eyes, he found that nothing had changed. Jack sighed loudly and read on.

There were a few times he almost gave in to the pull to sleep while reading or he would become distracted by random thoughts. The amount of time he spent rereading lines or paragraphs could have been used to identify and track down whoever wrote the poem, but Jack couldn't help it. His eyelids felt as if they were made out of lead. He could feel himself slipping into blissful, despicable sleep.

Jack fell backwards onto his bed and the book hit the floor with a loud thump almost at the same time. These two actions gave the atmosphere a near chaotic feel. If anyone had been watching the scene, they would have felt a shot of adrenaline. The only thing that gave the event a serene, quiet feel was the note. It slowly came to rest on the floor near the fireplace as minute sparks shot out towards it.

* * *

As the boy hit the floor, sharp, sickening cracks echoed through the halls. Winter screamed and sped to the boy, but it was too late. She breathed a curse as she tenderly placed the boy's wounded, unconscious body back onto the table. She felt his forehead then rushed out of the room.

During her absence, the boy woke up. He tried to move, but found that he could not. Both of his legs and his left arm refused to budge. He managed to lift his head up to see what the problem was. It took a great deal of effort, but he had gotten his head up far enough to see his entire body clearly. He immediately regretted this action.

His right leg had a bone protruding through it. It was bleach white and shattered at the end. A few specks of blood stained the bone, but as far as he could tell, there was no more blood. His left leg was twisted in three different directions which made his stomach churn. For some reason seeing his left leg twisted sickened him more than seeing the bone sticking out of his right leg. He looked at his arm. The lower arm was folded in half outwards.

He laid his head back down trying to contemplate his injuries. He had broken bones before, but never to such extremes. As he thought more and more he realized that he felt no pain. He didn't understand. When he had broken his bones before there was an unbearable amount of pain; however, he felt nothing.

As he thought about this, Winter returned with a glass bottle, twelve large sticks, and a roll of very thick bandages. She uncorked the bottle and held it up to the boy. It was supposed to be a clear bottle, but dust and some sort of slimy texture covered it. The boy could hear the liquid sloshing around inside of the bottle. "I'll need you to drink it all," she commanded as she handed it to the boy.

He obeyed and drank every drop. As soon as the last drop touched his tongue, his entire body went numb. It felt as if every inch of his body had fallen asleep except for his brain as he was still fully conscious. It was an odd sensation, but not too uncomfortable. What made him uncomfortable was the thought of what Winter was about to do to him.

Winter started to put all of the broken limbs back into place whispering all the while. After she had finished setting the bones, Winter placed the sticks around the limbs, four for each limb. Then, she wrapped the thick bandages around the limbs and the sticks very tightly. She proceeded to gather up the now significantly smaller roll of bandages and the empty glass bottle. As she took the bottle from the boy, she smiled and said, "I'll be right back."

The boy nodded and relaxed his head. He could feel the pressure from the braces, but nothing else. He was still numb from whatever was in that bottle. He could faintly hear Winter's footsteps traveling down the hall and her soft singing as she left him alone with only his thoughts.

* * *

Jack stood outside in the rain waiting for Ruby to come. Next to him, with only Jack's jacket to protect them from the downpour, were several items from his house neatly placed inside boxes. He would have to lodge at Granny's for a little while until he could rebuild his house.

The note had landed too close to the fire. Next thing he knew, Jack's house was lit up like the Fourth of July. Since Jack only had a landline phone and no car the only thing he could do was grab a few important items and hightail it outside before he became a human torch.

Because Jack didn't have the note any longer, he was forced to write what he could remember on the back of an old photograph of him and Ruby a few years ago, Fortunately, Jack's memory was near excellent so he remembered every word of the poem down to the fact that the person capitalized the word "Frost".

His house was set far enough away from the tree line for the tress to catch on fire and it had started to rain. He wasn't too concerned about that and the house could be rebuilt. He had been meaning to make some modifications to it anyways. No, the thing he was worried about was his spell book. It was the first thing he grabbed on his way out of the burning cabin.

Ruby's vehicle pulled into the fire station's drive way and she jumped out to help Jack carry the boxes. They secured the boxes in the back and then they both hopped into the front slamming the doors fast to protect the inside of Ruby's vehicle as much as they could.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," Jack said when he realized how wet he had gotten the seat.

"That's okay. It's been needing a bath anyway. I'm just glad you're all right. You are all right, right?" She looked him over in concern.

Jack chuckled, "Yeah, I'm all right. I just hope I'm not inconveniencing your Granny."

Ruby smiled. "Nah, she enjoys having people sleeping at her inn. I asked her if she wanted to come with me to pick you up, but she was too busy fixing up a room for you."

Jack imagined her dusting, sweeping, and changing the sheets. Boy, she was one hard working woman. His kind of woman.


End file.
